


specimen.

by DictionaryWrites



Series: The Dashing Collected [3]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Captivity, Flirting, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 02:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15426795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Taneleer can't actually be considering this... Can he?





	specimen.

“You’re looking han–  _Ooh_. You’ve had a haircut.” Wryly, Taneleer looks to the cage of Fandral, Son of Alvis, and he sees that he is hanging from the exercise beam placed at the top of the little case by his  _feet_ , upside-down. His drop to the ground is less than graceful, but Taneleer forgives it: he can see the shine of sweat on his bared chest and belly, see the twitch of his abdominal muscles as they are permitted a break from his exercise. 

“I… have,” Taneleer agrees. How Fandral can tell, he knows not: the difference in the trim of his fringe, of his hair, is marginal, and not a single white hair mars the black fabric of his tunic.

And yet Fandral  _notices_. Interesting. He is intelligent, Taneleer will give him that. 

“I could have done that for you,” Fandral murmurs. He really  _does_  look a picture in his exhibit - Taneleer has carpeted the floor, now, in a rich gold that brings out the shine of Fandral’s skin and the flaxen colour of his hair, as well as bedsheets in red for his bed. Not that Fandral sleeps under them, of course: he sleeps atop the tangled blankets, entirely naked, his thighs spread apart even as he lolls unconscious. A curious fellow indeed. Curious–

A good element to his collection.

“Could you?” Taneleer asks, humming his amusement. “You are… a hairdresser?”

“I’m many things,” Fandral says proudly, puffing out his handsome chest. Mmm, stars  _above_ , is Taneleer… Considering this? He is a most– fabulous specimen. So handsome. So well- _spoken_. It might be enjoyable, simply to sample him. “I would be a better attendant than your current.”

“Oh?” Taneleer asks, and he laughs, quietly. At the rich sound of it, rumbling from Taneleer’s chest, he sees Fandral shiver, and he notes it down for later. “And…  _tell me_. What attention can you offer that Eto cannot?” Fandral grins, and Taneleer recalls the way he had arched into his own hand, the way he had whimpered, moaned, for Taneleer’s amusement.

A specimen indeed. 

“Eto has not my beautiful hands,” Fandral murmurs. “Nor my charming face. He lacks my dexterity, my skill, with my fingers - or, indeed, with my golden tongue. I may not be a god, my friend, but I am most certainly a legend, and my tongue is all but  _worshiped_  on many realms.”

“And if you are to… escape?”

“You would simply have to seize me before I can… I should rather like that, to be  _seized_  by those strong hands of yours.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Taneleer murmurs. How long has it been now, of Fandral’s unerring attentions? Two months? Two months of sitting in his case so  _obediently_ , never trying to injure himself, never attempting to escape– Just watching Taneleer, or entertaining himself. “I will…  _consider_  it.”

“Oh, me too, Taneleer,” Fandral whispers, his tone laden with implication. “Every night.” Taneleer laughs again, and this time Fandral’s breath hitches in his throat - Taneleer rather likes that. It is…  _Cute_. 

Smiling distantly, Taneleer walks away. Behind him, he hears Fandral’s breath come out exhaled: a lovelorn sigh. False, to be sure, but well-acted nonetheless. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


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